


My very own Christmas miracle

by littlenoriko



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Alternative Meeting, Christmas fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 07:30:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3372977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlenoriko/pseuds/littlenoriko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this fic for the Blamily Secret Santa Project, and even if I'm kinda late I wanted to post it here and a little Christmas atmosphere is never a bad idea, so... Have a nice reading! <br/>[written as a Christmas present for gravesouls :) ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	My very own Christmas miracle

“Oh, come on!” Sam almost shouts, along with several people, when the train stops and all the lights expire. The emergency lights in the underground’s tunnel softly enlighten the wagon, intermittently.   
A voice cracks up from the speakers. “Dear passengers, we regret to inform you that our train has a mechanical problem. We are working to fix it, please be patient.”  
Sam really wants to cry. It may seem a little exaggerated, the underground train has just stopped after all. The fact is that the train has stopped today: the day Sam had to bought coffee because he had to stay late the day before for his turn at the Diner, the day Sam spilled his coffee on his mobile phone, the day Sam got yelled at by his boss at the Diner because he spill coffee on a customer’s phone and the day Sam didn’t get the modeling job he applied for. Today just sucks.  
“Christmas is definitely ruined.” he sighs, leaning his head on the window behind him. At least he’s sitting.   
“I don’t think that’s enough to ruin Christmas, you know?” a voice pipes up next to him; Sam turns to his left and looks at the boy that is sitting beside him. The wagon is mostly dark, the tunnel’s lights not enough to enlighten it properly: he can only sense that the boy has dark hair and has a scarf… purple, maybe. Sam isn’t sure. The combination of darkness and artificial lights weirdly filters the colors all around him: the boy’s eyes almost seem golden. His voice is cheerful, so Sam guesses he’s smiling.  
Maybe he should feel insulted or something, but he’s not: probably because this boy’s is the first friendly voice he has heard since the morning.  
“The whole day sucked. That’s just icing on the cake.” Sam answers, feeling suddenly less tired than minutes before. “That’s the worst Christmas ever.”  
The boy hums. “ Still, don’t let it ruin you Christmas. Beside, I’m sure my worst Christmas ever is so much worse than yours. Trust me, it can’t even compare.”  
Sam feels himself smiling despite his awful day. “Really? I admit I’m curious now.”  
The boy chuckles and shift slightly, like he’s trying to find a more comfortable position. “Well, I was 7 years old.” he starts to narrate with a fake dramatic tone that Sam shouldn’t find so amusing. “Cooper, my older brother, decided it would have been interesting to find out if eggnog is inflammable. So on the 24th, while I was already asleep and my parents were in the kitchen, he tried to set his mug on fire in the living room.”  
Sam is already smiling because he can guess what happened after. Turns out it’s even better.  
“The thing is, he didn’t set only his mug on fire. He managed to - don’t ask me how - set on fire the whole Christmas’ tree!” the boy laughs and Sam with him.  
“Oh, I can’t believe it! Seriously?”   
“ And it’s not over. Obviously under the tree there were already all the presents!” Sam’s laughter grows louder.   
“Okay, okay.” he manages to say, still laughing. “It’s objectively a great worst Christmas ever.”  
The boy laughs. “It’s not over yet. The best part is yet to come.”  
“What could have possibly happen?”  
“It was Christmas’ Eve so my parents couldn’t buy me another present. When I went downstairs on Christmas and I saw there were no presents for me, I started crying and didn’t even listen to my parents explaining: I thought Santa was punishing me because I have been naughty and therefore I confessed I had eaten some of the decorations of my mom’s gingerbread village. Guess what? They grounded me!”  
Their laughs are surely too loud and probably people around them are starting to be annoyed, but Sam can’t really find himself to care.  
Between laughters the boy manages to say: “But the best part is that the only present that wasn’t ruined was my brother’s!”  
Suddenly Sam can’t even remember why he was so tired and sad. He can only laugh along with a stranger he hasn’t even properly seen. It’s almost surreal.  
“ Ok, you win this one. My awful Christmas suddenly doesn’t seem so bad at all.”  
“ Told you.”   
Sam could swear the boy is smiling and he kinda really wants to see his smile.   
“ So how can you still have faith in Christmas?”  
The boy shifts again. “Christmas is really magical, after all. It’s my favorite holiday. Well, it used to be Saint Valentine’s, but after the most embarrassing serenade ever during high school I changed my mind. Less embarrassment with Christmas.”  
Sam can relate. His Valentine’s day always sucks. It’s like a curse. “I know what you mean.”  
“Beside, it isn’t even Christmas yet! It’s just the 23th. A Christmas miracle could still happen.”  
It’s just like magic. The boy has just finished his sentence when the lights in the wagon suddenly light up again and train starts to move. The voice from the speaker announce their arrival in the Herald Square’s station.  
Sam should exult, but he can barely breathe. The boy’s eyes are actually golden. They resembles sweet warm honey and Sam can’t stop staring.  
“ See? ” says the boy as he adjusts his scarf - that is red and God, his hair is dark like he has guessed but is also a blast of glossy curls and Sam can’t stop thinking about touching it. “A Christmas miracle just for us. And what better place than 34th Street?”  
Sam’s voice is awfully hoarse. “I told you that he was the real Santa.”  
The boy’s smile is wonderful, beaming and bright.

Christmas really is magical, after all. And if you don’t lose faith, you can have your very own Christmas miracle, even if you are trapped in the New York’s underground after what could be the worst day of your life. Christmas will be great for Sam this year.

And Saint Valentine’s will be even better.


End file.
